


Not Quite A Pseudonym

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first meeting between one "Joly" and one "Musichetta" brings up a difference of opinion over given and chosen names, as well as the introduction of a famed sulk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite A Pseudonym

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be 100 words but it got away from me and now msword says that it is over 400. Inspired by the "Isn't it Musichetta she calls herself?" translation, which has a different connotation in English than in French as far as I know. Also I didn't spend too much time with Italian etymology here, so 'musichetta' as a derived term from 'musíca' (like in 'musichetta di sottofondo') might be entirely wrong.

" _Mus-i-chet-ta_ ," he tries, emphasising each syllable, trying to make it roll off his tongue as it does hers. "Is that French?"

Musichetta merely winks in response, her grey eyes sparkling as she takes a sip of wine. After a few moments, she says with faux despondency, "No, Italian! A noun, not a name, but I have repurposed it, for what my mother called me was dreadfully dull. Now, tell me yours, or the suspense will kill me."

He takes a sip of wine as she speaks, unsure if the warmth he feels after is due to the alcohol or the beautiful woman. "Joly."

"And what did your mother call you, Joly?"

Joly determines that the cause is, without a doubt, the beautiful woman. "I think it only fair that you tell me first."

The sound of Musichetta sighing in such a despaired manner makes Joly feel guilty, which he thinks for a moment is her intention. Tilting her chin upward, almost defiantly, she tugs at the cuff of one of her evening gloves, and he is mesmerized by the movement of her fingers. Graciously, she does not tease him for watching, instead choosing to ask, with a lilt in her voice: "Really?"

"Yes," Joly says in earnest. "After all, you did not give me your family name, nor your given name, only a nickname. How can I know if you were even honest?"

"Oh, so you think me a liar?"

She stops fiddling with her glove; Joly looks up at her face and is surprised to see her lower lip turned down in the start of a frown, her eyes glassy rather than sparkling. It is clearly the beginning of a pout. Terrified of having offended her, he stammers, "No! Of course not, I merely wanted to--"

Musichetta cuts him off. "Is that not what all men say after insulting a woman? I do not wish to hear your excuses! You called me a liar, did you not?" He stares at his lap, feeling rather like a chastised child. "Why, had I known you would say such a terribly untrue thing perhaps I would not have sought you out!" Her tone is melodramatic and theatrical, but she speaks elegantly.

Joly suddenly realizes that she is teasing him, and glances up from his lap. She notices and comes up with a compromise.

"You will call me Musichetta, and I shall call you Joly. Perhaps later we can discuss our other names, hm?"

Later, in the early hours of the morning, they do, but not until after half a night in bed.


End file.
